


Blessed by the Tree of Knowledge

by sepherim_ml



Series: Supernatural Bible 'verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending: Swan Song, Bondage, Hypnotism, M/M, Restraint, Sam-in-Lucifer's-body, dub-con, evil!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 22:11:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepherim_ml/pseuds/sepherim_ml
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean wakes up in the Garden of Eden, he's naked, bound and Sam said ‘yes’ to Lucifer. If this is not enough, Sam is set to make Dean his Consort, with every mean necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blessed by the Tree of Knowledge

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the amazing jackfan2 for the beta-work!  
> This fanfic is written for my luv weeping_ice who asked a retelling of Eve’s Temptation a while ago. Of course, every time we discuss together, my twisted mind decided to make this an excuse to plan every kind of scenarios. Meaning, this 'verse :)

**Prompt:** _Serpent’s Temptation with Lucifer!Sam and Eve!Dean, kink: hypnosis_  given by  [ ](http://weeping-ice.livejournal.com/profile) **[weeping_ice](http://weeping-ice.livejournal.com/) **

**Warning** : ‘Swan Song’ alternate ending, wincest, slash, evil!Sam, restraint (Dean bound to a tree by vines), dub-con (due to ‘hypnosis’)  
  
  
  
  
  


  


[Thanks to weeping_ice for the amazing banner! *smooch*]

  
  
  
  
_He caused to grow  
all trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste;  
and all amid them stood the Tree of Life,  
high eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit  
of vegetable gold; and next to life  
our death, the Tree of Knowledge, grew fast by,  
knowledge of good bought dear by knowing ill._  
\- J. Milton,  _Paradise Lost_  
  
  
  
Dean wakes up moaning; sparks of pleasure ripple through his body and leave him open mouthed. He opens his eyes, gasping for breath, the ghost of fingers still lingering on his red nubs, now perky and hard, after what seems a long sexual torture.  
  
Hazel eyes are scrutinizing him from above, cat-like, shaped like Sam's, and Dean is immediately confused. He couldn't be him to--  
  
Wait a minute.  
  
"Sam?"  
  
Sam smiles slowly, his lips stretching almost lazily, without baring his teeth. There's something off in his expression that Dean cannot quite explain, but this is his brother, no doubt. Even if Dean's head resting on his little brother’s very naked thighs, his mouth a couple of inches away from his semi-soft, rather well-endowed cock.  
  
Okay. What the hell--?  
  
Sam is naked. Completely naked. Dean is equally nude, spread half on Sam and half on the grass. Yes, that's definitely soft grass under his ass and Sam is sitting back, leaning his back against a tall ginourmous tree.  
  
 _This doesn't make any sense._  Dean’s mind supplies and he tries to move.  
  
"Shh," Sam soothes and Dean stills. "Everything is fine."  
  
"What the fuck --"  
  
Sam is caressing Dean's right thigh now, his calloused hand brushes his pubic area, then wraps around the soft cock. Dean moans again, even if it's wrong. This is a dream. There is no other explanation. This is a very wet dream and Dean will wake, curl to the side and begin stroking his cock to completion guiltily listening to Sam's sleepy breaths coming from his bunk. He’ll wake up to another in a long line of seedy motel rooms, still dressed like any other day in their fucked up hunter lives. No grass, no trees, no nudity involved, just Dean, his morning wood, and Sam's snores.  
  
Except Sam's hand is still on his cock and Dean feels his blood boil. The impulse to spread his legs is overwhelming, especially now that one of Sam's finger starts brushing his balls, inching ever closer to that sensitive parch of skin right beneath.  
  
 _Please, don't--_ . Dean's cock hardens, despite his mild attempts to resist and he closes his eyes, ashamed.  
  
"Eyes on me, Dean." Dean obeys instinctively and Sam is smiling, pleased. "I'll explain everything. Or rather, I'll show you." Two fingers press against Dean's forehead, in a replica of Cas' usual gesture of teleporting. Instead, Dean's body stays there, pinned to the ground, boneless under Sam's ministrations, while images and memories are flooding in his head.  
  
"I died," he stutters in the end. He's back in his body, shaking breaths coming out from his mouth, his tongue darts out to wet his dried lips. "You said yes." His voice is accusing, even though, theoretically, Sam said yes because they decided it was the best way to end the apocalypse.  
  
The cost, neither of them had foreseen; the lives of two close friends, Bobby and Castiel. It was when Michael had attempted to kill Dean and shove him into the Cage that Sam closed his eyes, stopped fighting the Devil and said 'yes', consensually.  
  
But there’d been more to their bargain than that... and in that moment, when Sam had shown, when he’d touched Dean’s forehead, Dean had heard it for himself. He’d heard Sam’s voice pledge something else:  
  
 _Yes, Lucifer. You'll have my body; I'll have your powers. We'll be together, but Dean is mine. **Ours.**  Forever._  
  
"You really said yes." Dean corrects himself, now his breathes are becoming erratic and shallow. The enormity of what has happened crashes against Dean's chest, squeezing his heart and suffocating all his futile attempts to take deep breaths and stop freaking out.  
  
"Look at me, Dean."  
  
Dean's eyes shoot up and when Sam's hand strokes his hair, but before he can say something along the lines of 'get the fuck away from me', he notices that his hands are restrained.  _What the hell--_ Correction: his hands are bound tightly with what looks like some kind of a plant. A vine.  _Freaking hell._  
  
Sam chuckles darkly; deep, twisted amusement brightens his eyes while he passes a thumb up Dean's forearm until he comes to the bindings and inserts his finger under the tight ropes of the climbing plant. The nail scraps at the tender and bruised skin. "Lucifer suggested it. He likes seeing you bound, and I appreciate good advice."  
  
 _This... monster is not my brother._  
  
Like Sam read his thoughts, he sighs. "I knew it. You let yourself be distracted by this," he waves at Dean's naked body, his posture, the fucking ropes, the hand Sam still has on his cock, now wandering further down until it stops, on the verge of circling his hole. "It's still me, you're still you. Only-- we're different. Powerful. We're not scattered hunters, we're kings."  
  
"That's bullshit and you know it."  
  
Sam's gigantic paw grabs Dean's chin, Lucifer peaks behind those normally melancholic hazel eyes. For a second Sam seems surprised by his own actions, but then his index finger escapes from the clenched fist and traces Dean's plush lips.  
  
The finger thrusts into Dean's mouth, resting on his tongue. Dean wants to bite it, but there is something in his captor's eyes that compels him to stay put, to not harm Lucifer-slash-Sam. The middle finger joins the index, and together they push against Dean's defences, entering the internal sanctuary of his velvety mouth.  
  
"We both like your lips," the voice is Sam's but it's deeper. It's Lucifer's. "Suck them."  
  
Dean wants to huff, to bite, to kick and to kill that stupid son of a bitch with his bare hands. He wants his brother back. He'll have him back, even if he has to punch him to death. Despite his intentions, Dean's tongue moves to circle the two fingers, then his lips wrap around them.  _Oh fucking--_  Dean rolls the fingers in his mouth before sealing his lips tightly around them, suckling them like his life is depending on it. A flare of excitement spurs into his belly and Sam's hand, still wrapped around his dick, start jacking him off.  
  
 _Don't make me,_  he's pleading with his eyes.  _Don't make me come_ .  
  
"Not now, Dean," Sam smiles, finally, his dimples showing. He looks down, at Dean's shameful erection, and the spell is broken. Dean bites the fingers, raising his knee to kick Sam, but he doesn't manage to hit him. Sam's eyes are on him again, this time golden-white, eyes of a furious fallen angel.  
  
"You little--"  
  
Dean shouts in surprise when he’s suddenly lifted and thrust backward. Something solid connects with his spin, hard enough to drive the air out from his lungs. Dazed, he doesn’t fight as the restraints pull him tight against the tall tree and two more vines appear and secure his waist to the wooden trunk. Other vines bind his chest, rubbing his over sensitive nipples, while still more close like shackles around Dean’s ankles.  
  
It all happens in the blink of an eye and Dean is now completely incapable of moving, helpless under Sam’s depravity. His senses return in a rush and he’s not about to give up without a fight.  
  
"You son of a bitch!" he bites out, lashing out against Lucifer but pleading to his brother. "Sam! This isn't you-- don't let him win this!" Dean whimpers when the restraints around his waist and chest start to squeeze, not enough to actually hurt him, but enough to act like a warning.  
  
The vine circling his wrists begin forcing his hands up and over his head, rendering Dean feel vulnerable and completely defenceless under Sam's scrutiny. He tries not to show just how exposed and helpless he feels, but the way the vines around his ankles part his feet makes him shiver in fear of what will happen next. "Fight him, Sam!"  
  
Sam straightens his back, calm again, like nothing unusual is happening. "You don't understand, the fight is over, we won." A lazy smile plays on his lips and his voice is patient, like Dean is little more than a stubborn child that has to learn a lesson. "Don't you see, brother?" Dean doesn’t wait fro Sam to continue; he sends a wad of spit flying. The fluid reaches Sam’s left cheekbone, a curdled liquid smear on the tender, stubbled flesh of Sam’s jaw.  
  
Sam half-closes his eyes before placing his hands against the trunk, one on either side of Dean's face. "Lick it," he growls.  
  
 _Go fuck yourself_ . His tongue seems tangled and when Dean opens his mouth to swear, no words escapes from his lips. Instead, Dean finds himself doing as he was ordered, obeying without a fuss, licking his own spit away from that familiar face. He still wants to kick and punch and spit and rebel, but he cannot; his body refuses to co-operate or to translate his desires into actions.  
  
"Good boy," Sam praises and pats Dean’s cheek.  
  
In seconds, revulsion and bewilderment Dean feels over his little brother's actions start to fade, washed away by the way Sam's eyes swell with adoration and expectation, like Dean is  _really_  a good boy and Sam expects more treats from him. A glint of yellow irises catches Dean's attention, a doubt peeking in his mind, but promptly wiped away when Sam pushes forward and kisses him. It’s not gentle. It’s hard and filthy and too soon his fat tongue is pushing inside the hot cavern of Dean's mouth.  
  
This is his brother, but this is Lucifer too and they have bound him naked to a tree, and they’ve molested him – but it doesn't matter now, because washed in the sudden tide of lust and desire, the disgust, the surprise, the mild humiliation disappear from his mind. Dean moans, opening his mouth further and begins kissing back fiercely, as if his life is completely dependent upon it.  _He needs it._  
  
Sam grabs his hip with so much force that he'll probably leave purple marks behind, staining his skin with remainder of his possessiveness. The thumb, though, caresses the skin of Dean's underbelly gently, while his other hand slides into Dean's inner thigh, touching faintly against Dean's puckered entrance. Dean shivers, but it's not for the fear of what Sam is going to do, but for the want and need cursing through him.  
  
"You're mine, now. Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this moment?" Sam doesn't wait for an answer, he keeps kissing him, slowly and deeply, and Dean starts struggling against the vines but not to regain freedom. But to touch him, to make skin-to-skin contact. "Years. Fucking years. But now you're mine, forever. You want this too, right, Dean?"  
  
Dean nods immediately. "Yes. Yes, Sammy."  
  
The nickname triggers something in Sam's mind, because the vines around one of Dean's ankle shifts and moves, making it possible for Sam to slide a hand under Dean’s knee and raise it. Dean whimpers as a finger begins circling the quivering hole, petting the sensitive wrinkles flesh before inserting it in with one movement. Dean hisses at the burn, but one look at Sam's eyes and the pain is already forgotten and transformed into mindless pleasure, which was the proof that Sam's eyes are holding Dean in some kind of spell, because there is no way he's not feeling the tearing at his virgin hole.  
  
"Nothing will hurt you, Dean." Sam's voice comes smooth like velvet, caressing Dean's skin like a physical praise. "If you're not ready to trust me yet, I'll make you, but in the end, you'll see."  
  
Dean has no recollection of when Sam’s fingers pulled out but now Sam pushes the head of his cock into place and past the tightness his fingers had breached. He slides in with careful movements until he's deep into his brother, then he bites his tongue, muttering something under his breath, maybe addressing Lucifer, then starts to thrust in and out, listening to Dean's whimpers and moans.  
  
The vines are still holding him in place, but Dean doesn't care, he likes the slow burn, the mild pain cause his limbs, he likes that he's tied down at Sam's mercy and he cannot do anything other than take it.  _Jesus. This is --_  
  
"Let me come. Let me come, Sam," he asks, voice raspy and lost. Without the pain, every single touch or contact of Sam's skin, his lips, his teeth, his hands, with the tree against which Sam is pounding him hard, the vines tightly immobilising him are fire in Dean's body and mind. It's pure, simple and animalistic pleasure.  
  
"Come Dean, anoint yourself as my Consort with your come on our bellies and my come deep inside you." Sam's voice is deep and makes Dean shiver. He comes, he blanks out, and Sam follows him, filling him with his hot spunk. Something’s burning in his belly, in his soul, in his mind. His body is shaking uncontrollably and only Sam's hands on his hips, the vine still raising his leg, Sam's kisses are holding him together. "This fucking against the Tree of Knowledge, in the garden of Eden – this is our infernal wedding, Dean. This is the beginning of  _us_ ."  
  
  



End file.
